Thanksgiving update

Oh hi, we’re back. Came back yesterday afternoon, before we had planned to do so.  We stayed two different places in two nights and decided to add a third would be madness! The upside? Time to unpack and do laundry, and even rake some leaves and sweep a floor or two. The downside? We did not get our Christmas tree. Anyone else would simply go buy one locally, but anyone else doesn’t have the kind of tree stand that will hold only a tree with a hole drilled into the bottom of the trunk. Thus, we will be attempting to scare up the kind of tree stand that the whole rest of the world uses. (Got one? Email me.)

I am about to fight my way through piles of clutter and attempt to dismantle the decoration on ‘DIS MANTLE:

mantle

…so I can replace it with something that feels Christmasy. (Note the awesome fireplace screen we scored for cheap via Craigslist!) As I write this from the other end of the house, there is a cozy fire in that there fireplace, and the Steelers are on the TV.  I just napped through the second half of the early games – I’m tellin’ ya, that couch is the bomb!  And the family room is still available for Inauguration rental, too… Just sayin’.

My Grandmas’ Recipes

You know how I am always complaining of boredom, how I am forever lacking things to do? (Quit laughing!) Well, last week I was sitting there, just twiddling my thumbs, staring off into space, thinking I needed a new hobby or project (because I don’t know about you, but all of my projects – every last one! – are completed and all the supplies are put away) and I thought to myself, hey, Soup, you should start a new blog!

And then my head exploded all over the walls, giving me just the project I was seeking.

KIDDING. About the exploding head, I mean. NOT kidding about the new blog though!  Because I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t bite off more than I can chew. (Food metaphor very much intended.)

You see, when my Grandma Sara (of whom I have written) died three years ago, I had a great idea. I took her recipe box and thought it would be swell to take all of her recipes, compile them into a nice little book.  But not just any book – a book that also contained family photos and even a collection of everyone’s food-related memories! Cool ideda, huh? Well, life intervened, and this project slipped down the Master List of Projects… until last week, when it occurred to me that I SHOULD BLOG ALL OF THESE RECIPES!

And that is when I realized that I was placing undue pressure on myself to come up with some neatly-bound printed volume to share with the family. But, I thought, if I were to BLOG the recipes, then anyone who was twiddling their thumbs, with no idea what to cook, just waiting for the long-promised recipe collection to arrive, could subscribe, check in periodically, and even CONTRIBUTE memories and photos and recipes.

Thus, I present the primitive beginnings of:

My Grandmas’ Recipes

The plural possessive is intentional. Both of my grandmas – Grandma Sara, and Grandma Losch – were amazing cooks, and superlative grandmothers, too. And – heck, why not – I might add some of my own faves on that blog as well.  Because life is just too short to not share good recipes – and good stories, too.

Now, because I want to get that blog up and running, I may not post as frequently here on SINAFF… but I will post alerts here when I make new posts over there.

So, check it out – all that’s there now is a cross-reference right back to this post from Soup – but in the coming weeks it should grow and flourish.

Traditions

thanksgiving

Dear family: KIDDING! SERIOUSLY!

Our holiday season tradition for some years has been this: Travel to see them on Thanksgiving, and invite family to visit us over Christmas.  My kitchen stays clean and tidy that way, and Santa doesn’t have to figure out where in the world we are.

We alternate sides of the family for Thanksgiving – this year, we will be dining with my dad’s side of the family at my aunt’s house. I keep offering to host dinner, and she keeps deferring, saying someday soon, they’ll all show up on my doorstep. This is also the reason she won’t let me bring any food to contribute to dinner.  “It is NOT a covered dish affair,” she wrote. (Guess I’ll bring wine.)

Another tradition we have is listening to “Alice’s Restaurant” as we drive to Pennsylvania. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, then you might be too young to be reading this blog. Here, let me help. Hop over to YouTube and view this video… all 18 minutes of it.  (Embedding was disabled.) But come back when you’re done! I’ll wait right here…

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Wow, that was long, wasn’t it? That’s what our boys whine say as we inflict share the recording with them once they are safely buckled into the Suburban unable to escape and we are zooming up the highway. “Kids?” we say. “One day, you will remember this Special Family Tradition with fondness and nostalgia, and you, too, will be singing all the words while your own children roll their eyes and jam their fingers into their ears.”

Later in the weekend, we’ll catch up with Soup Husband Curt’s side of the family.  We always grab a freshly-cut Christmas tree from his aunt and uncle’s tree farm, and drag it across state lines, like so much contraband, and not just because they sold us a special Christmas tree stand that requires a perfectly straight hole to be drilled into the tree trunk, thereby ensuring our repeat business year after year. Nope, we like to support the family, and enjoy having a little piece of Pennsylvania to bedeck our home for the holidays.

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My dear readers, please know that as I am giving thanks for a myriad of blessings this year, I am grateful for you! It amazes me that there are people out there in the world who actually take time to read the stuff that comes out of my brain and ends up on this blog. Seriously. Whether or not you leave comments, the fact that you choose to come here at all warms my heart and makes me want to hug every last one of you, even if you’re the type who dislikes that kind of invasion of your personal space.

Anyway. Happy Thanksgiving, Soup Readers!  See you next week.